


who makes the works of creation

by nevereverever



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Botany, Caleb-typical Panic Attacks, Canon Aro-Ace Character, Families of Choice, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gardens & Gardening, Gen, He Love Them And He Shows It Through Plants Okay?, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29478777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevereverever/pseuds/nevereverever
Summary: The Wildmother gave the natural world a great many gifts. Beautiful things, useful things for those who walked Exandria to plant and pick and protect. Caduceus Clay sees them as the offerings from his Goddess they are and gives them to the Mighty Nein, these odd, beautiful, useful people he is learning to love.or5 times Caduceus shows his love in plants, and 1 time someone returns the favor
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Fjord, Caduceus Clay & The Mighty Nein
Comments: 12
Kudos: 75





	who makes the works of creation

**Author's Note:**

> Happy International Fanworks Day! I wrote this fic in what I have learned to be the best way to write fic about Caduceus Clay which is high on (legal) marijuana. I think it turned out sounding just about like that.
> 
> Have fun, buddies!

i. Urtica dioica

“Ahh shit, fuck, hey Caduceus?” Nott called, obscured by the dense trees and underbrush. Caduceus furrowed his brow and started to walk towards the sound. He clutched his staff a little tighter. “I think something bit me.”

"What bit you?" he called into the forest, in what he assumed to be her general direction. “Is it very big?”

“Well, I didn’t see it when it bit me and I can’t see it now, so if that’s anything to go by, whoa-” she said as he very nearly kicked her in the chest. “Careful there, Mr. Clay. You could kill me with those long legs of yours.” She was clutching her right hand to her chest. He knelt down to be at eye level with her.

“Anyone could kill anyone else in the right circumstances,” he said, offering a hand to her, palm up. She tittered nervously, shaking her head. He could see tears clinging to her eyelashes. She dashed them away quickly with her other hand.

“That is not good bedside manner. You’re a terrible cleric,” she replied, putting her injured hand in his. There was a fine tremor running through her that he could feel against his palm. A little patch of green raised bumps stood out from her skin, only where it wasn’t covered by the tattered bandages. He smiled softly.

“Nettles,” he said. He stroked his thumb over the bumps and cast a quick Lesser Restoration. The pink light ran across her skin and when it faded, so did the rash. He pointed at the nettles in the surrounding brush. The leaves' edges were serrated like the edge of a bread knife and just a few shades of green off from the color of Nott’s skin.

"These ones are a bit like you." He pulled his hand into his sleeve and picked a leaf, careful to shield his fingers from the poison-tipped needles that covered the surface.

"Very painful if you rub them wrong," he caught her big, yellow eyes, "but of incredible value." She narrowed her big yellow eyes at him, studying him then the leaf in his fingers. She covered her fingers and took it from him.

"Thank you," she replied, something quiet and earnest in her voice that he rarely heard.

ii. Pisum sativum

“Caduceus, stop farming or whatever and come cuddle me,” Jester called from across the rooftop. Caduceus had to stop himself from replying ‘be there in a minute ‘Belle.’ Gods, he missed his sisters. He gently pressed the woad he was transplanting into the fertile soil.

“I’m almost done, Jester,” he said as he watered the little sprout. He hummed a little blessing, an old thing that he barely remembered the words to in Sylvan, but he remembered the tune. The air was quiet and still and when he closed his eyes, their jars of light almost felt like the sun. He heard her footsteps behind him but didn’t open his eyes

“If I help you, will you be done faster?” she asked, draping herself across his back. He nearly lost his balance but caught himself on the edge of the raised bed. She nudged at him with her horns and he laughed, deep and rumbling. He tipped his head back and looked up into the boughs of the tree, then forward where his eyes caught on a pea plant, just barely starting to fruit.

“No, I think I can be done,” he replied. Jester sighed and he felt her breath on the back of his neck.

"What are you even growing in this garden anyway?" She wrapped her arms around his waist, relaxing against him. He chuckled.

"Some food. Some dye. Some things that remind me of home. Some things that are just for you.” Jester gasped and faux-fell backward onto the stone of the rooftop garden. She clapped her hands to her cheeks and smushed her face between them. 

“Oh my gosh, Caduceus! What are you growing for me?” He pointed over to his pea trellises with their purple and white flowers and just beginning pods, climbing up trellises made of the deep brown-purple wood that was everywhere in Rosohna. Well, everywhere but the tree above their heads.

“They’re sugar peas for my Sugar Pea,” he said with a smile. He reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. She let go of her cheeks and opened her arms for a hug. He laid next to her and pulled her into an embrace. She pulled her knees in and curled up into his chest. Warm and happy and safe, safe, safe.

iii. Taraxacum

“Okay there, Dandelion. You’re okay,” Caduceus said as he wrapped Caleb securely in his arms and turned him away from the flaming remnants of the battle. 

"That is not my name," the shaking wizard said into his chest. Caduceus sent up a whisper of thanks to his goddess at that. Talking was good, talking was great.

"I know," Caduceus said, walking away from the rest of the Mighty Nein as they regrouped. He’d start a Prayer for them in a moment, until then, no one was so hurt Jester couldn’t fix them up. He guided them through the treeline and into a small field, just far enough upwind that they couldn’t smell the smoke, the burning hair and clothes and flesh. He sat in the grass and, with a tug on his arm, Caleb mechanically followed, his normally sharp blue eyes glazed over.

“That is not my name. This is not- I-” he stumbled over the words and then fell silent, his breath nearly slowing to a halt. Less good. Caduceus took Caleb’s hand in his, unfurling the tight fist and gently massaging the stiffness out of his fingers. Caleb held tension everywhere and sometimes all Caduceus wanted to do was take him by the shoulders and tell him 'Give us the weight. We will take it.' But instead, he rubbed his thumb across the scar on Caleb's palm.

“I know. But you are resilient, and you make the world better everywhere you go. You have a good, bright heart.” Caleb sucked in a shuddery breath. "Some things are made to survive a fire, Dandelion. They have deep roots"

"Roots," Caleb mimicked, his voice distant like the wind could whip it away. He dug his free hand into the soft earth and let it run between his fingers. He turned to look at Caduceus, his eyes bright with unshed tears. 

"You," he said, holding up the dirt in his hand. Caduceus nodded and hoped he truly understood.

"We'll keep you here, Caleb. We'll keep you grounded."

iv. Antirrhinium majus

They'd been walking for what Jester bemoaned as 'like FOREVER, you guys!' but the weather was nice and the scenery was beautiful, rocky plains dotted with tall conifers and occasional farmland.

They stopped for lunch, a little pleasure they didn't often allow themselves, even though lunch was just some cheese and jam from the last town and Jester's dwindling supply of honey on some bread that was beginning to go stale. The sun was bright and warm, and when Yasha wandered away to go look for flowers Caduceus chose to follow.

There were lots of little patches of scrubby wildflowers that Yasha would run her fingers over and smile but didn't pick. Things she thought were beautiful, but not enough to carry with her, to bring to her wife. Like she could prove her own worthiness in pressed flowers instead of swings of her blade. 

They wandered towards one of the larger rock outcroppings in silence. That was one thing that Caduceus loved about her the most. The rest of his friends had a tendency to fill silence with chatter, Yasha could just exist with him in it. He took a rest on one of the boulders and looked up into the clouds.

"Oh wow," she said with a reverence that was so rare in the world. When he looked over, she was crouched on the ground a few feet away. He approached to see her staring in wonderment at a small cluster of red and purple flowers that twisted and curled their way to the sun.

"Those are very beautiful," he said softly as if his voice might break the calm, interrupt her moment of quiet joy. "Snapdragons."

"What are they used for?" She turned to look at him for just a moment. He smiled and the sun felt a little brighter across his shoulders.

"Their use is in their beauty," he said, crouching down to be level with her, "their use is to make you smile." And she did and it was enough.

v. Indigofera tinctoria

“Hey, Ducey? We’re gonna head out now.” Beau said from over his shoulder. He looked down at the handful of leaves he’d managed to gather while the others had packed up the campsite.

“Hmm,” he responded. He kept picking, careful to snap off each leaf at the stem, just to leave the plant balanced as it continued to grow towards the sun. He was taught to harvest carefully, to take only what the plant could give, to cause no permanent harm.

“Seriously, dude, we need to get moving.” She paused for a moment and took a few steps closer, her ever-present curiosity getting the better of her. “What is that?”

“Indigo,” he said. He tucked the waxy leaves away in his bag and stood. “It’s for you, actually. Mr. Yeza might appreciate it too.” She cocked her head to the side, but a smile played across her lips. She leaned back against a nearby tree, her mission completely forgotten.

“It’s for me?” Caduceus started to say a soft prayer, a thank you to the sun and the earth and the wind and the life around him. Beau turned away for a moment as if to give him space. He smiled at that. She wouldn’t have been so thoughtful when they first met.

“Your sash,” he said when he was finished. “It’s beginning to fade. I was growing some woad in my garden for it, but I don’t know when we’ll get back there and this little friend is so very beautiful.” Beau stepped closer and ran her fingers over the delicate little pink flowers. She looked up at him.

“You’re too fuckin nice.” She pulled off her sash and carefully rolled it up and held it out to him, “don’t lose it or turn it into mushrooms or whatever,” she said, not even bothering to hide her smile behind a glare. 

“Of course,” he vowed. He took the cloth from her and it was a great test of his will to not pull her into a hug.

I. Bougainvillea glabra

They were in Port Damali the first time it happened. They’d been to so many cities, cities that Caduceus never even dreamed he would visit, cities he’d never even heard of before leaving home. Port Damali is vibrant and lively with an undercurrent of secrecy that rattled Caduceus, but Fjord looked so at home.

Not relaxed. There were very few times in the course of their friendship when Caduceus would say that he’d seen Fjord relaxed. Mostly glimpses as he fell asleep, a single breath in a spa house, a blink of an eye on the deck of their ship. He wasn’t relaxed in Port Damali, but something inside of him settled.

The streets were perfumed with a sweet smell that Caduceus couldn’t place, strong and floral, almost like the honeysuckle that grew at the edges of the Grove. They were meandering about the city with no particular direction, looking for trouble more likely than not. Beau had some sort of business she wanted to take up with the Myriad, but Caduceus hadn’t listened all that closely.

They made their way, eventually, to a soft, white sand beach, the sun just beginning to set over the ocean. Beau, Yasha, and Jester went charging into the surf, barely managing to take off their heavy armor and weapons and outerwear before diving into the waves. Caleb and Veth settled next to each other in the sand, her head in his lap, a book in his hand. Looking over all of them felt right in a way he couldn't explain. The wind blew softly off the sea and the sweetness and the smell of brine mingled in the air.

"Duceus? Are you alright?" Fjord asked. He put a hand on Caduceus’ arm as if to ground him, to keep him from floating away into the orange and pink and purple sky. He smiled.

“I’m always alright,” he replied. The girls were getting into a splash fight of an intensity he had never seen before. It reminded him of his sisters and he felt a pang of homesickness. “This place is very beautiful.”

“It is a lovely sunset,” Fjord said with a sigh so soft the crashing waves nearly drowned it out. Caduceus turned to look at Fjord, to admire, for a moment, how the strength of his body and mind met the softness of his heart. 

“It is, but that’s not what I meant. It is beautiful to see you here in the soil you grew from." Fjord bit his lip and nodded. A seabird crowed in the distance.

"I spent my young life wishing I could leave. People can be... cruel.” Fjord brought a hand up to his face and rubbed at the hinge of his jaw.

“You may have started in rocky ground, but you’ve got good roots now. You’ve changed a lot since you were last here. For the better.” Fjord laughed and shook his head, and a small bit of tension bled out of his shoulders. His smile was small and honest and as bright and vibrant as the setting sun. 

“How do you always know exactly what to say? I swear every time you tell me exactly what I need to hear,” Fjord said, unable to keep the smile out of his voice. Something fluttered in Caduceus’ chest, almost like he had swallowed one of his beetles. 

“Well, I know you, and I know the truth. That's everything important." Fjord’s grin was infectious, Caduceus couldn’t hide his happiness from his face any longer. A gentle breeze blew across the beach and Caduceus couldn’t tell if it was the embrace of his goddess or just the wind, but it felt good. It smelled sweet and like the sea and it felt right.

“I have something to show you,” Fjord said, offering his hand. Without hesitation, Caduceus took it. He trusted this man, his friend, his captain, his paladin. He felt almost guilty for thinking those words. He was the Mother's paladin, but deep down Caduceus knew that Fjord was his.

They walked back inland, through the twisting streets that all seemed to be dusted with a fine layer of white sand. The smell, the sweet floral one that seemed to perfuse the city, got stronger as they went. They chatted as they walked, Fjord politely filling Caduceus in about the Myriad business that he’d missed when he was too busy paying attention to the tension in Beau’s jaw and the way Jester was twirling her hair between her fingers.

The light was starting to fade in earnest and lamps on street corners lit their way as they continued. Fjord stopped in front of a heavy wrought iron gate covered in vines. He smiled. 

“I wanted to bring you here because... Well, I feel the Wildmother’s presence best on the sea and I know that you are not the biggest fan of the ocean-”

“I’m coming around to it,” Caduceus interjected, squeezing Fjord’s hand.

“I know. But this place. When I was little, I would sneak out of the orphanage at night.” While Caduceus still smiled, but it dimmed a little at the mention of the orphanage, like a cloud passing over the sun. “And I would come here to just feel something else for a while. I’ve never been to your Grove, but this is what I imagine when you talk about it, about how you feel Her presence there.” He reached out towards the gate but found a lock where there hadn’t been one before. 

“Fjord?” Caduceus asked. Fjord put his hands over his mouth and started to laugh.

“I planned this out. I thought about where I would take you for months and I didn't stop to think that it might be locked." He looked at Caduceus, giggling, with something wild in his eyes that wasn't often there. 

"We could probably jump this fence," Caduceus replied, trying to hold back his own laughter, "it would hardly be the most dangerous thing we've done together." 

"No. No, I can teleport, what am I thinking," Fjord said. He grabbed Caduceus' hand and whispered an incantation. When Caleb teleported them it felt like getting squeezed through a tube, but with Fjord, it almost felt like dissolving and being formed again. 

In the blink of an eye, they were through the fence and in the garden, and Caduceus felt his heart break and be formed again. 

The garden was beautiful. Plants with curling vines and deep green leaves interspersed with flowers of bright red and orange. There were bushes covered in small, bright yellow flowers that burst from the ground like clouds and small palm trees and a pond filled with blooming lilies. Little lightning bugs wove in between it all, flashing in gold and green.

Above them was a long series of archways that stretched out into the garden, covered in and woven together with delicate leaves of the brightest pink he had ever seen. He reached up and brushed one with his fingertips.

Oh, that's where that sweet smell was coming from.

_Oh._

"Fjord, this is so beautiful," he turned to see the bright smile on his friend’s face, perhaps as beautiful as the garden itself, "thank you. I love you." It was simple enough to say it because it was so very true. As sure as the flower would bloom, then die, then rot and be reborn again, Caduceus Clay would love this man.

"I wouldn't be here," Fjord reached out but stopped before they touched, and in the moment of hesitation Caduceus caught his hand and wove their fingers together, “I wouldn’t be alive, I wouldn’t be me without you. I don’t know how to say this without it coming out wrong-” Caduceus squeezed his hand.

“You know what’s true, and you know yourself. That’s everything important,” he gentled, echoing his words from the beach. Fjord laughed in that nervous way of his, but the warmth of the wind and the music of the crickets swallowed it, and the sweet quiet returned.

“I love you too," he said in a voice so soft that it could barely be heard over the rustling of the trees, "That’s what’s important. Not like I love Jester. I don’t think that you would want that anyway. But I need you like I need her. I don’t want to be apart from you if I can help it." He brought his other hand to Caduceus' shoulder and lightly stroked at the soft, fine fur there. His eyes held a deep-seated fear, almost terror. 

He’d brought Caduceus to this place that meant so much to him, and held his hand, and spilled his feelings, and still, he feared rejection. Caduceus could see it in the furrow of his brow and the fine tremor in his hands.

"That’s amazing,” he blurted, "I'm not sure where my journey leads from here, but what I do know is that fate brought me to you and I won't let it lead me away." The wind picked up for a moment, warm and sweet with the smell of the flowers and in it he heard the voice of his goddess. 

"These flowers," he said, reaching up to the arches to touch them again. The pink petals felt almost like paper under his fingers. "What are they called?"

"Bougainvillea. They remind me of you, a little. Maybe it's just the color." When asked later, Caduceus would not have been able to say why, but in that moment, the only thing he could think to do was pull Fjord into the tightest hug he could and just hold him there. The world stood still. The fireflies stopped blinking, and the wind stopped blowing, and the bird stopped singing because all there was in the world was the two of them. Fjord’s arms around his waist were warm and strong.

“Is everything alright?” Fjord asked softly as the world began turning again.

“Everything is wonderful.” Caduceus pressed a kiss to his friend’s hair, “you’re wonderful.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, my friends. Leave me a note if you'd like, I treasure them.


End file.
